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No motion has she now, no force ;
She neither hears nor sees ;
181 LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER A Chieftain to the Highlands bound
Cries - Boatman, do not tarry !
To row us o'er the ferry!'
This dark and stormy water ?' • O I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,
And this, Lord Ullin's daughter. · And fast before her father's men
Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather. His horsemen hard behind us ride
Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride
When they have slain her lover ? Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,
' I'll go, my chief, I'm ready : It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady :-
In danger shall not tarry ;
I'll row you o'er the ferry.
The water-wraith was shrieking ;
Grew dark as they were speaking.
But still as wilder blew the wind
30 Adown the glen rode arméd men,
Their trampling sounded nearer. • O haste thee, haste !' the lady cries,
Though tempests round us gather;
But not an angry father.'
A stormy sea before her -
40 And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing :
His wrath was changed to wailing.
46 One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,
And one was round her lover.
Across this stormy water :
My daughter !—0 my daughter !' 'Twas vain : the loud waves lash'd the shore,
Return or aid preventing :
JOCK O' HAZELDEAN
Why weep ye by the tide ?
And ye sall be his bride :
And ye sall be his bride, ladie,
Sae comely to be seen
For Jock O' Hazeldean.
And dry that cheek so pale ;
And lord of Langley-dale ;
His sword in battle keen'
For Jock o' Hazeldean.
Nor braid to bind your hair ;
Nor palfrey fresh and fair ;
Shall ride our forest queen
For Jock o' Hazeldean.
The tapers glimmer'd fair ;
And dame and knight are there.
The ladie was not seen !
SIR W. SCOTT.
Yet remember, ’midst your wooing,
And the rivers with the ocean,
With a sweet emotion ;
All things by a law divine
Why not I with thine ?
And the waves clasp one another ;
If it disdain'd its brother :
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea-
P. B. SHELLEY.
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To Music at night,
Goes answering light !
Yet Love hath echoes truer far
And far more sweet
The songs repeat.
'Tis when the sigh,-in youth sincere
And only then-
The sun has left the lea,
The breeze is on the sea.
Sits hush'd his partner nigh ;
But where is County Guy ?